


What in this vast world brings you happiness?

by hostile7teen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5729359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostile7teen/pseuds/hostile7teen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short scene in which we meet Will and Hannibal - and they meet each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What in this vast world brings you happiness?

Will Graham was a man adrift on a sea of empathy; unable to stop the emotions pounding over him like waves and having no lifeline to which he could cling. Jack Crawford, head of the BSU and Will’s superior at the Bureau, saw this and knew that he had to find a way to save the teacher-turned-Special Investigator from the horrors that he was subjected to in Jack’s desperate drive to close cases. Will never passed the strict screening procedures to officially join the Bureau as an agent. He was too unstable. Nevertheless, Jack recognized Will’s gift of being able to glean details from evidence that other agents were simply incapable of seeing and pulled him out of his classroom at Quantico, gave him a temporary badge, and threw him out into the field – all without so much as a basic psych evaluation.

Jack approached psychiatrists he thought possessed the credentials and skill to possibly help Will - Heimlich at Harvard and Bloom at Georgetown - both flatly refused to do an evaluation or provide any counseling. However, Alana Bloom recommended sending Will to Hannibal Lecter. She had done her residency at Johns Hopkins under his mentorship and respected his skill and professional distance from Will to be able to provide a thorough and unbiased opinion. She insisted that he was a gifted therapist and if anyone could provide Will with a compass to navigate his way through treacherous waters it was Dr. Lecter.

That was how Will found himself sitting in the waiting room of the good doctor’s office at 7:30 pm on Wednesday night. He wasn’t sure why his pulse seemed erratic or why his palms were slightly damp. Probably because he didn’t like being psychoanalyzed. This may be his own personal version of hell. He sat there for what felt like an eternity - just waiting. No other patients entered the waiting room. He was certain he was alone, but he felt a pressure building in his chest, as if someone were standing behind him. He could swear he felt the warmth of breath on the back of his neck. He didn’t like being psychoanalyzed. This may be his own personal version of hell.

There were muffled voices coming through the door to the office proper: the calm clipped rhythm of the doctor’s voice, a blend of European accents that hinted at a tongue which spoke many languages, and a higher more plaintive voice took turns as though duelists atop a hill on a hazy morning. He realized his face was slightly flushed and his shirt was gently sticking to the small of his back. 

“Why is it so hot in here?” He thought to himself.

He was on the verge of standing up to pace and collect himself when he heard the patient exit door open and close. He scrubbed his hands across his face and forced himself to focus on the present as the door to the office opened. 

“Good evening, Mr. Graham.”

“Hello. Dr. Lecter, I presume.”

“Do come in and, please, call me Hannibal.”

Will rose and followed Hannibal into the office. They sat facing each other in matching leather chairs. As Dr. Lecter settled himself and reached for an expensive looking journal, no doubt to keep notes in, Will took a moment to look at the man who was supposed to save him from himself. He saw eyes such a deep brown that they appeared maroon, hiding a bottomless well of secrets. Strikingly sharp cheekbones slashed across the face and drew onlookers’ eyes down an almost delicately narrow nose to a sensuous mouth that hinted at both tenderness and cruelty; lips made for kissing concealing teeth built for biting. A squared jaw tapered to a slightly stubborn chin. The doctor’s hair was impeccably coifed. Fine strands of chestnut and ash blended beautifully and begged Will to run his fingers through them. Will let his eyes drift down to take in Dr. Lecter’s physique. He was slightly older than Will, but clearly in the prime of his life. He was a large man, tall and lean, there was an abundance well-toned muscles expertly hidden beneath the many layers of Egyptian cotton, merino wool, Asian silk, and Italian leather in which Hannibal wrapped himself. The combination was devastating. 

“Get a grip, Graham, he’s your shrink. You aren’t supposed to think about him like this. And you don’t even like men -- that much.” Will’s inner voice chastised him.  
Hannibal gently cleared his throat and snapped Will out of his reverie. 

“I would ask you what brings you here today, Will, but I think it rude to dismiss that fact that you were essentially forced into seeing me and, above all, I abhor rudeness.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Lecter.”

“Hannibal, please. I think it best that we approach this with the mindset of two friendly adults having a conversation instead of a doctor and patient. Of course, all rules about confidentiality will be strictly observed. Does that work for you, Will?”

A wry grin twisted on Will’s face. “Um, yeah. I suppose.” He mutters, clearly not comfortable with the situation no matter what tack the doctor takes.

“Look, I know that Jack Crawford sent me here to get rubber stamped and maybe, just maybe, pull myself together, and you seem like a nice guy, but this… this just isn’t my thing. I psychoanalyze other people. They don’t psychoanalyze me. And frankly, I really don’t want to try to look any deeper into my own head. It’s hard enough seeing those things once, let alone over and over.”

“I appreciate your candor, Will. Perhaps we can hold off on delving into the murky depths of your memory for now. Why don’t you talk to me about something you do enjoy? What in this vast world brings you happiness?”


End file.
